


Glasgow Kiss

by calmdowncold



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Edgeplay, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmdowncold/pseuds/calmdowncold
Summary: Noam pays his friend a visit- but soon realizes that said friend already had a plan for how Noam's evening would really play out.





	Glasgow Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is literally the most indulgent piece of porn-fic ever. My very good friend Lyter got this suggestion into my head and I whipped it up in 2 hours. Enjoy! or don't. Y'know.

Noam had just wanted to see Finn. 

Sure, everyone else in the Raw locker room was good for a laugh and he gave handshakes and hugs where needed, but fuckin’ hell, when Finn invited him to come to work a day early to hang around Raw, he thought they would at least have had _one_ conversation. 

But between the early morning crossfit and coffee, which Seth and Bayley tagged along in, and the way Finn tried to preen over Sami via Facetime when he had a free couple minutes, Finn was extremely popular round these parts. It’s not that Finn was rude; he was just being stretched very thin. Not even his fault, really. 

However, that did leave Noam sat on a bench, idly playing with his phone, hearing that bloody Irish accent giggle and chat with his pals on the other side of the locker room. The show was just wrapping up, 11PM grew closer and maybe Noam would have a chance to head back to the hotel with Finn for some much-desired catching up.

Noam of course did his best to keep up with the product. He worked for WWE after all, he needed to be informed. This Monday was no different than most of them had been in latter 2018, with the mountainous Drew McIntyre closing out the show, a triumphant smirk on his face. 

Noam knew that smirk well. 

He cleared his throat and fidgeted a little when it sunk into his brain that unless he and Finn left, like _now_ that he would be face-to-face with Drew within minutes. 

This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, he reminded himself. He liked Drew fine. They were chummy when they needed to be. Drew was a wonderful speaker, a great athlete, all around a strong presence.

But back in the day, back at home, before the WWE schedule, before zero free time, he and Drew had had their time together in ICW.

Many… many a time. 

Finn knew about all of it- having unfortunately sauntered into a room with an unlocked door once and witnessed Noam with his pants down first hand- so he was hoping that maybe a wink and nudge would get his friend going.

Noam didn’t really consider his eagerness to get away to be avoiding Drew. He was more just avoiding any possible hook-up from being proposed. Because goddamnit Noam knew himself and he knew _that side_ of Drew pretty fucking well. And he was pretty certain that if the suggestion was made for him to head back to Drew’s room instead of Finn’s, it wouldn’t be given a second thought. 

And for the love of god, Noam had just wanted to see Finn. 

Noam slunk over to where his pal was standing in a circle with a collection of their mutual friends. Between story exchanging and texting, Finn’s mind was miles away from heading home. He was having too much fun. 

Noam pretended to laugh at whatever thing Apollo had just said. He was sure it had been funny, or at least awkward enough to pass as funny since it was Apollo saying it. But his ears were fixated on the door, trying to listen for stomping footprints among the giant, echoing building. 

“Hey, mate…” Noam dared, leaning into Finn’s ear so as to not interrupt anyone too much. “Are ya thinkin’ about maybe tuckin’ it in?” 

“Oh!... Erm.” Finn said, looking around and seeing his friends, his unpacked bag, and his uneaten pre-prepped dinner. 

That was all he needed to do. 

And all he had time to do. 

The door to the locker room swung open and in came Drew- all six foot five of him- with a deflated Dolph Ziggler strung over his shoulder like a sack of blond potatoes. 

“Fuckin’ worthless, ya…” Drew tilted over to let Dolph slide off of his shoulders and plant himself on the ground, legs wobbling from the latest beatdown Seth had laid on him. 

Drew whipped his hair back and stood at full attention, scanning the locker room with a disgusted sneer. His blue eyes took a full circle around the room before they came back to where Noam was sat. Incredibly, Drew’s hatred for other people socializing had managed to blindside him from who was sitting nearly directly in front of him. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” Drew whispered, awe cutting through his distaste for his coworkers. Still in only his trunks and boots, he literally pushed Dolph off to the side and made a short beeline for Noam. 

“Where have you been, ye bastard?” Drew said, really letting the Ayr accent fly free in front of Noam. 

“Been holdin’ up 205 Live, mate!” Noam said. By choice, he remained seated for an extra few moments, allowing himself to take in the view of Drew. Every one of his muscles was pushing through his skin, defined and contoured by the dark hair covering him. The water from his long hair splattered down his body, a few drops landing here and there onto Noam’s jeans. His head eclipsed one of the fluorescent lights in the locker room, for fuck’s sake. 

Noam swallowed audibly, already unsure of how long the Scottish brash bravado could be kept up. 

Drew held out a hand for him to shake, and when Noam accepted it, instead of a common shake, he was yanked onto his feet so hard that he left the ground for a split second. 

He cleared his throat weakly and avoided eye contact with Drew, who simply grasped his hand a little tighter. 

And then he fucking said it. 

“I’ll see ya back at the room then, aye?” 

Noam almost sighed, but all the air was taken away from his lungs as every drop of blood in his body rushed to his shorts. 

“Aye.” He said, disappointed in his own predictability beyond words, not yet ready to come to terms with how excited he was. 

“Good lad.” Drew gave him a shoulder squeeze and stormed back to the showers. 

Noam took in a harsh breath and exhaled through his nostrils. To his amazement, Finn was staring at him from across the room, eyebrows raised. Noam mouthed ‘fuck you’ to his mate and watched him throw his stupid head back and laugh. 

There goes his plans for catching up. There goes a nice time with a good friend. Instead, Noam was going to head to a random hotel room with an absurdly hot man and have incredible sex. 

What a burden. 

He grabbed his backpack from the floor and cut through the crowd to give Finn a big hug, officially detaching himself from whatever potential plans they may have had. 

“‘On yersel’, mate.” Finn whispered, mocking Noam and Drew’s matching accent. 

“Dafty.” Noam growled through suppressed laughs.

* * *

Noam knew Finn would text him and ask for details later. Bloody pervert, he is. Not nearly as much as Sami, who had been listening and holding his breath last time he was home with Finn and Noam called on Facetime to recall a romp of his in real time. But god, Finn probably knew this was going to happen the whole time. Maybe that’s why he invited Noam over? 

Noam scrolled a few pages through his text messages and noted that in only about two weeks time, he had mentioned his ‘dry spell’ 3 times. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” He muttered to himself, shoving the elevator button to Floor 5, like Drew had texted him. The message had been sent quickly, sloppily, with no punctuation. It was like a mating call. 

Finn fucking planned this! That arrogant bastard… God damn him for knowing Noam so well. God damn him for wanting to get Noam laid. 

Noam rolled his eyes at himself. Drew was a peacock, with the most beautiful array of dazzling feathers anyone had ever seen and Noam, he guessed, had to be the eager peahen. 

The elevator rumbled closed and Noam paraded out, looking for door 27. It was just a right turn around the hallway, and he gave the wood three quick knocks. Almost immediately, the door was opened and slammed against the wall, as Noam was grabbed by his shirt collar and wrenched inside.

“Ah! Good to see ya, too, mate!” Noam choked, adjusting his collar. He got a quick glance of Drew, noting that he had changed into jeans and a black tee shirt. It wasn’t supposed to be a sexy outfit but of course Drew managed to wear it that way. 

Bastard. 

“Shut up.” Drew growled, his big hand now connecting with Noam’s throat and pushing him against the hotel wall, nearly knocking over whatever gaudy lamp was resting on the bedside table. 

In a flash, Noam was so hard that his dick felt like it was soon to burst through his track pants. He accidentally let out a little whimper, exclusively from arousal and nowhere near from pain, but Drew’s face softened with worry for half a second. 

That was the thing about Drew - no matter how rough he got, or how harsh the words he spat were, he never did anything that was out-of-bounds and paid the closest attention to his partner’s happiness at all times. 

Noam, struggling around the fist in his throat, gave a quick nod - a signal to continue. 

“You been fuckin’ avoidin’ me, eh?” Drew moved his strong hands to Noam’s jacket and nearly threw him from the wall to the still-made bed. Noam’s feet stumbled and dragged behind his body. 

Drew took his hands away so Noam could catch his breath, but it was extremely short-lived as he slid his leather belt through the loops of his jeans. Noam gasped and felt goosebumps breakout over his entire body. He had felt the belt before - Finn had given him a high-five when he heard about it. 

Instead of wrapping it in half to be used as a weapon, Drew took hold of the belt in his teeth and invited himself to straddle Noam’s chest. He took Noam’s wrists and pressed them down to the bed. Using his forearms to keep Noam still, he wrapped the belt around his wrists, smaller and tighter, until the edge threatened to cut into Noam’s skin. He clasped it shut. 

Noam took in the sight of Drew looming over him now, tightening his air flow as he rested all of his weight onto Noam’s ribcage. He looked pleased as ever.

Noam nodded again, more arrogant this time. “Go on, then.” 

“I will.” Drew affirmed with a short nod of his own. 

He got himself up from the bed and wasted no time in dragging Noam’s pants to the floor. Although he had been feeling it, Noam eyed himself with satisfaction over how hard he was. 

“You been fuckin’ waitin’ for this, eh?” Drew asked, then the maniac planted a back-handed smack right onto the tent in Noam’s boxer briefs. 

“Ah! Fuck you!” Noam grunted, tensing from more shock than pain. Drew was capable of much more than a love tap, as he was sure he’d be reminded of soon. 

“Fuck me?” Drew pointed to himself, bewilderment in his eyes. “I’m sure you’d love that, ya weak little fuckin-” 

Before he finished his insult, Drew ripped Noam’s underwear to his knees and took his hard cock in hand, pumping and twisted fervently. 

Noam yelped at the sudden attention and tried his best to rock his restrained form into Drew’s fists, tried to somehow make the sensations stronger. 

“Agh, ahhhh, fuck, mate, holy shite, oh fuck, oh fuck…” Noam slurred every swear in the book as his knees twitched and tried to wiggle free from the pants and underwear that still clung around his ankles and knees. 

To Noam’s absolute horror, somehow making him even more turned on, Drew paused to spit directly onto the head of Noam’s hard cock. With no more than a few heartbeats in between the stop-and-go, he spread the wetness all along Noam’s length, using two hands now to grind and torment. Noam squirmed, shaking his head back and forth against the bed, trying to move his body any possible way to get the pleasure to intensify even more. 

“Ah, fuck, mate, I’m gonna come…” Noam warned, feeling his eyes cross and roll into the back of his head as the sparkling sensation bubbled up behind his pelvic bone. 

Drew let out a dry laugh and folded his arms across his chest, backing away from Noam’s pathetic splayed out body on the bed. 

“Wha- HEY.” Noam yelled despite the late hour. 

“Ya think yer gunna get what yae want this early?” Drew asked. A few strands of pure black hair had fallen into his face amongst all the action and he made no effort to move them. 

“Come back ya fuckin’ wank!” Noam barked, feeling the peak of potential orgasm slip away. 

“Oh, alright.” Drew unfolded his arms and reclaimed his position on top of Noam’s chest. Swift like a cat, he was mounting and swinging his hand back to connect a sickening slap across Noam’s high cheekbone. 

Noam accepted the hit with an ‘ _oof_ ’ and felt the orgasm creep back over. 

God damn Drew for knowing exactly what worked with him. 

He shuddered out a breath as Drew reached one hand behind his own back to continue his previous motions, now much slower and much more unbearable. 

“Ah, fuck, go faster…” Noam said in a pleading tone. 

“Is that how you ask?” Drew sunk his head towards Noam’s, long mane all falling forward now. Even in the dim hotel lighting, his eyes shown through the curtain of hair. 

Noam felt himself getting close again and struggled to put a sentence together, and if this was the game Drew wanted to play, he wasn’t going to win so quickly. 

Noam summoned up all the saliva he had left in his mouth and attempted to spit it directly into Drew’s face. It was, of course, easily avoided and Drew gave him another one of those goddamn fucking smirks. 

“Alright, mate.” He said, his scratchy voice sounding more gruff than usual. “That’s what ya want, then?” 

Again, he lifted himself away from the bed and ceased all of Noam’s pleasure. 

For a minor moment, Noam wondered what he looked like right now. He could feel the sweat coating his forehead, and surely his hair was a ruffled mess from writhing against this duvet. 

Drew, though. Drew looked thrilled. 

“Say it.” Drew stated. Not asked. 

“Fuck you.” Noam sighed, not ready to wave the white flag yet. 

“Say. It.” Drew demanded. 

“Dafty.” Noam stared at the ceiling, feeling another wave of mild irritation with himself come again. 

However no feeling of shame or annoyance could compare with the pleading feeling coming from his neglected, weepy cock. 

At that, Drew pounced on him like a lion to a gazelle. He grabbed Noam by his bound wrists and used force to push him onto his stomach. Noam let out an involuntary moan when his dick pressed against the mattress, even the slightest pressure feeling like relief. 

Drew ripped his pants and underwear down, over his sneakers and discarded them to the floor. He tore Noam’s shirt up over his head and raked the newly exposed flesh as hard as he could with his short fingernails. 

Noam cried out, but found himself arching up into the feeling. He heard the sound of a zipper being undone as Drew prepared himself for what was to come next. His own jeans were shoved to the floor, his tee shirt torn away and thrown with the rest. All while Noam was panting and wiggling on the bed, the scratches in his back now faintly starting to bleed. He tried to get his footing just right so he could press himself against the edge of the mattress again. Drew noticed and snarled. 

“Don’t ya fuckin’”- Drew said, now climbing back onto Noam and shaking loose the makeshift handcuffs. 

“Fucking say it!” Drew boomed, bearing his teeth. 

“On yersel’, prick!” Noam taunted, despite his cheek being pressed into the bed.  
He heard no vocal response from Drew, but a drawer open and close. He could practically put the images together himself, like watching a movie one had seen a dozen times, as the lubricant bottle audibly snapped open. The unmistakable tearing of a condom wrapper. 

“On yersel’.” Drew said, sneering. When his own hard cock was fully coated in lube, he relocated his belt and wrapped it around Noam’s neck now. In one fluid and careful motion, he primed himself and slammed into Noam, making him gasp and his eyes cross. 

Drew held the belt like reins to a horse as he fucked in, moderate pace at first but rapidly picking up speed and strength. He wanted Noam to feel every fucking inch pounding in. Wanted him to get to a point so desperate that he would scream out the words that Drew so desperately wanted to hear. 

Now with his hands free, red marks like tattoos around his wrists where the belt had kept him restrained, Noam tried to snake a hand downward to finish himself off while Drew fucked wildly. The squeezing of his neck combined with Drew’s amazing motions were enough on their own but if he could… just… get… one… hand…. 

“No ya fuckin’ don’t.” Drew said, noticing immediately, snatching one of Noam’s hands, then the other as he stored the belt between his teeth once again. He pinned Noam’s wrists to the small of his back and thrusted harder than he had before. It would be sold as a punishment in this game that they played, but the way Noam moaned gave way to what it actually was - a reward for bravery. 

Drew felt Noam begin to fall apart and spat the belt away so it dropped to the bed and off of Noam’s throat. Noam always trembled right before coming; always tried to form sentences but only Scottish gibberish could come out. 

Naturally, Drew pulled out and away right at the final second, assuring that Noam was not granted this honor. 

“Ah, wha- COME ON, MATE!” Noam yelled breathlessly, the words coming out more like a desperate squeak. 

“What do you say?” Drew asked, keeping his voice deliberately low now, making his massive form known, standing right behind Noam’s presented thighs. 

“NO.” Noam tried his best to growl like Drew did. 

“Alright.” 

Drew bent over to wrap a thick forearm around Noam’s throat and bring him to his knees on the bed. Drew attacked his now-leaking cock; the pleasure multiplied now with the leftover lubricant on and around Drew’s fingers. He turned his fist around in a circle, making sure that Noam was having the absolute time of his life. 

Noam’s thighs were shaking like he had been thrown out in a winter storm. His jaw was slack now, hanging open stupidly, with even a dribble of spit spilling out as he failed to remember how to look dignified. 

His eyes rolled all the way into his skull as the glittery, tingly sensation arose behind his pelvis and crawled into his veins, spreading all up and down his legs, raising the hair on his arms and making his ears ring. 

Right before he could explode and enjoy what was sure to be an orgasm to write home about, Drew took his hand away. 

Finally, that was the last tease he could stand: Noam caved. 

“Fuck, no! No, _please_! Fucking please! Please, I need it, I fucking need it, pleasepleaseplease fuckfuckfuck…” Noam let Drew’s favorite word tumble from his chewed-apart lips as his eyes sunk back into place, giving him sight of the spinning room around him. Despite his efforts to try and blink them away, a few tears spilled from his eyes and he sniffled against his own will. 

“That’s a lad.” Drew chuckled. “Keep it up.” 

Drew released Noam from his grasp and shoved him back onto the mattress. With a quick re-application of lube, he slammed right back into Noam and fucked on, keeping one hand on Noam’s hip and the other attached to his cock. 

“Please, please, keep doin’ that, oh fuck, please, please, yeah, fuck, please, puh-lea… lea…” 

It had to be less than a minute before Noam was finally granted the bliss that he’d been clamoring for. He came, in and under Drew’s hands, so fucking hard that he was certain he blacked out for a few seconds. Noises away from his control left his mouth as he coated Drew’s fist with come. 

Drew followed him closely behind, coming much less dramatically but definitely equally as intensely. 

Noam’s muscles unclenched as he sunk into the mattress under him. Drew did some half-assed clean up and threw his boxers back on before collapsing onto the opposite side of the bed. They laid there for a few peaceful moments, only the sounds of their own panting and frantic heartbeats filling the room. 

Noam mentally noted to send Bastard Finn a thank-you card before slipping away to sleep.


End file.
